Urgot Decides to Cosplay
by imtoojuicy
Summary: The beautiful and contentious Katarina Du Couteau, although a peerless mistress of death and violence in the art of war, is a total noob when it comes to romance, thus she wallows in the misery of unrequited love. Unable to bear the sight of his forlorn commander, Katarina's faithful vassal, Urgot, decides to take matters into his own pincers and aid her in her time of need.
1. Oh, Balls!

"Bwaaaaa! Nuuuuuu bwaaaa! Why! Why! Whyyyy! Bwaaaa!"

A sobbing Katarina Du Couteau ran swiftly through the hallways of the Noxus capital building, furiously rubbing her teary eyes with her hands and wiping her runny nose with her forearms. The famed champion of Noxus paid no heed to the curious yet cautious glances of those she passed by, the poor girl barely able to even see straight, so out of sorts was she.

The passerby made sure to give her wide berth, for she was quite possibly the most dangerous and unpredictably violent character in all of Noxus. It was common sense to avoid any sort of confrontation with the Sinister Blade, especially when she was emotionally distraught. But after she passed them by, they all turned to stare after her fleeing form.

The men stared especially hard, for she was dressed in a blatantly stereotypical school girl outfit, complete with an absurdly short blue plaid skirt hanging onto her rear end for dear life and virgin white stockings pulled up taut to mid thigh. Her appearance was shamelessly provocative and flaunting, bordering on exhibitionist. Yet even the manliest men of Noxus refused to exchange even the smallest of jokes about her female form. And even the cattiest women of Noxus held their normally wicked tongues. Because in the past, whenever a man talked ill of Katarina Du Couteau, she retaliated, without fail, by cutting his balls off. And whenever a woman talked ill of Katarina Du Couteau, Katarina retaliated, without fail, by cutting her hair off and super gluing a dead muskrat to her freshly-shorn scalp.

However, the occupants of the Noxus capital building were not particularly surprised by Katarina's outlandish costume. For one of the worst-kept secrets within Noxus was the fact that Katarina Du Couteau was a gigantic otaku. She absolutely loved to watch TV shows of Ionian animation, otherwise known as anime. And she absolutely loved to read comic books drawn by Ionian authors, otherwise known as manga.

She tried to hide her love for anime and manga from her cohorts, but they knew. Oh, they knew. Whenever Halloween came around, Katarina always dressed up as a cat girl, because Katarina absolutely loved anime cat girls. Also, whenever she thought she was alone in the girls' locker room, she would start singing the Sailor Moon theme song to herself. Unfortunately for Katarina, the air ducts in the Noxus sports gym had great acoustics, and every other day or so, her off-tune singing could be heard reverberating throughout.

"... fighting evil by moonlight... winning love by daylight... never running from a real fight... she is the one named Sailor Moon!"

But today, poor Katarina was not singing. She was crying. And although she normally made it a point to never cry in public, today, she did not give a ****. For she was broken-hearted, her hopes and dreams for true love dashed to smithereens.

"Bwaaaaa!" Katarina finally reached her destination, plowing through the door to her sister's quarters, and she crumpled onto her knees, holding her head in agony as she cried out, "Oh god, Cassie! He hates me! He totally hates me! Hates me, hates me, hates me! Bwaaaa!"

Cassiopeia was relaxing on her bed, lying on her back with a pair of cucumber slices covering her eyes to reduce any possible puffiness. She was by far the more level-headed of the two sisters, and she was used to Katarina's histrionics. Thus, she replied with a practiced soothing voice as she continued to stare upwards into cucumber.

"Sssshh, my dear Katarina, ssshh... tell me, dear sister, what foolish man dares to look unfavorably upon you?"

Katarina wailed in response, "Ezreal! My beautiful bishonen Ezreal! My beautiful bishy, the man of my dreams, he hates me so much, oh god, Cassie, it hurts! My heart hurts so much, bwaaaaa!"

Vaguely interested now, Cassiopeia slowly plucked away the lukewarm slices of vegetable from her face. And she remarked to the ceiling, "Oh, so you finally worked up the courage to introduce yourself to him?"

"Well..." Katarina stopped bawling for a second, so she could wipe her badly running nose. And she looked away in embarrassment. "I sort of... well... not really..."

Cassiopeia turned her head to look at her sister. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I mean... you see, I found him at the Sailor Moon booth at the Piltover Anime Expo, where he was cosplaying as Tuxedo Mask – oh god, Cassie, he even likes to cosplay! God, he is so PERFECT for me! He is so pretty and tall and dashing, and according to his facebook profile, his favorite Naruto character is Itachi! Oh my god, I love Itachi too! And he also said on his facebook that he likes girls who dress up in Ionian school girl outfits, which is why I wore this stupid thing in the first place, and I wish Ezreal liked me, but he doesn't, he hates me, he hates me, oh god, why! Whyy! WHYY! Bwaaaa!"

Cassiopeia winced at her sister's rather pathetic caterwauling, and she tried her best to get her sister to stop making a scene. "Now, now, Katarina, it seems that you did not even talk to Ezreal, and yet, you are convinced he does not like you? How can you be so sure?"

"You weren't there, Cassie! You didn't hear what he said before I could even walk over to say hi to him!"

"What did he say?"

"You see, he was standing and talking with Rammus, who was cosplaying as a Poké Ball, and I heard him say... I heard him say... urrk!"

Katarina choked on her own sobs, she couldn't bring herself to repeat his painful words. Cassiopeia slithered down from her bed to drape a comforting arm around her beloved sister's quivering shoulders, as she whispered, "It is okay, Katarina, what did he say?"

"He said..." Katarina managed to compose herself for a moment. "He said, 'Noxians, I hate those guys!' "

"Are you sure he said that? Perhaps you took his words out of context?"

"No, Cassie, I could hear the earnestness in his voice! He hates us, Cassie! He really does hate us! He hates me! My pretty Ezreal, oh god! Why is life so unfair! Why, why, why, whyyy!"

Cassiopeia handed the fiery redhead a fresh silken kerchief. Katarina made a plaintive sound of gratitude, then proceeded to blow her reddened nose clean of its last remnants of snot...

The two sisters sat together in silence for a couple minutes, the only sounds being the occasional hiccup from Katarina. Then Katarina finally wondered out loud.

"Hey Cassie, should I kill Ezreal?"

Cassiopeia exclaimed, "No, of course not!"

"Oh, okay." Her eyelids heavy and leaden, Katarina bowed her head in exhaustion, almost dozing off. Then she looked up. "Maybe I should just cut his balls off, instead."

"No, no. Please, Katarina, you need to stop talking like that!" Cassiopeia then lightly coughed as she nodded to Katarina's left hand. "So, then, um, about cutting men's balls off..."

"Huh?" Katarina looked at her left hand, only to realize that she was holding onto a small bloody sack of flesh. "Oh, these. I think they belong to Draven."

"You think?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. On my way to you, I passed by Draven and his stupid smile on his stupid face! That stupid smile made me so mad, I just kind of blacked out for a moment, and then... yeah."

Katarina put down the bloody sack of flesh as gently as she could. "I probably shouldn't have done that, huh?"

"Well, as far as legal matters are concerned, father can squash any lawsuit that Draven might file against you. But honestly, Katarina, I am becoming so very worried for you."

"Really? Why?"

"Have you ever stopped for a moment and wondered why you have such bad luck with men?"

"Hmmm." The Sinister Blade of Noxus thought for a moment, forehead creased. Then she tentatively suggested, "Is it because men are intimidated by a strong woman?"

Cassiopeia sighed. "Katarina, do you remember why your last boyfriend broke up with you?"

"Who, Talon? Well, I... umm..." Katarina scratched the side of her nose. "I think it was because I cut his balls off."

"Exactly. And why did you cut his balls off?"

"Because he said that my in-game model was old, outdated, ugly, and in dire need of a rework."

Cassiopeia said nothing now, and the silence was damning, as Katarina had a moment to let her own words sink in.

Katarina then finally let out a defiant pipsqueak. "Well, he didn't have to say that it was ugly!"

"Certainly, he was insensitive regarding his choice of words, but don't you think you overreacted a bit, considering that particular situation?"

"Well." Katarina stared sadly at the blood-splattered ground beneath her resting left hand. "Maybe I should have just knocked out his front teeth, instead."

Cassiopeia was encouraged by Katarina's self-reflective words; it was rare, indeed, for her headstrong sister to admit fault. "Knocking out teeth would be a good start, I think. Teeth can be fixed. Those, on the other hand?" She nodded to the bloody pile on the ground. "Not as easily fixed."

"Oh god," Katarina held her face in her hands, moaning regretfully into her wall of fingers. "And to think, I've cut off so many! I lost count years ago!"

The fingers then fell away to reveal a small bitter smile, and a mirthless laugh escaped. "It's hopeless, Cassie, isn't it? Ezreal and every other man out there must think I'm crazy. No man will ever go near me again, and I am going to die as an old lonely crone, aren't I? All hail the Sinister Old Hag of Noxus!"

"My dear sister, do not lose hope. Despite all your mishaps in the past, remember this! You are still a devilishly hot and attractive young woman, and men are retardedly stupid when it comes to hot and attractive young women. Believe me, somewhere out there, there is definitely a special someone just for you."

"You mean, someone like... Ezreal?"

"No! I'm not talking about silly pretty boys who dress up as your favorite anime characters! I am talking about a real man of real substance! A man who loves you for who you are, not for who you dress like!" Cassiopeia waggled a knowing finger. "Believe me, Katarina. When you finally meet him, you will know. You will absolutely know that he is the one."

Katarina smiled hopefully now and she leaned forward to give her sister a big hug. "Thanks, Cassie! And you're right, I shouldn't give up! Sailor Moon never gives up in her quest for love, and neither should I!"

"Errr, yes. Never give up, just like Sailor Moon."

Yet, as they hugged, Cassiopeia could not help but wonder what sort of man could be the one for her feisty little handful of a sister.

END OF CHAPTER

Notes: I wrote this two years ago (before Katarina's visual upgrade, as you can tell by the described point of contention between Talon and Kat), but I didn't think about posting this doodle here until now... I think I'm doing this because I've been reading 19th century French literature lately and the language is so freaking winding and convoluted, it makes me want to punch the nearest French guy repeatedly in the face. But those French guys sure know how to dote on women, which reminded me of how I envisioned this story playing out... so yeah, URGOT x KAT 4 LYFE.


	2. The Summons

_One Year Ago_

Of those who inhabited the Noxus capitol, early morn always arrived first for the stationed soldiers since their barracks were intentionally situated at the eastmost areas. This way, they would be the first to absorb the incoming rays of the rising sun. And today was no different as the sun's bloody red tendrils spilled over the horizon's edge, running freely onto the rows upon rows of humble military black bungalows. The morning air was chilly and stifling, and only now were the men and women beginning to stir to the shrill reveille of raised bugles everywhere...

Deep within the underground dungeons beneath the Noxus capitol, however, and inside a blackened stone chamber that served as both bedroom and office, one particular veteran was already up and at 'em, needing no bugles to rouse him from his brief nightly period of inanimation. He hummed a Noxian war hymn under his mechanical breath as he stood at a corner of his room, using his monstrous pincer of a right hand to jam a variety of breakfast foods, from white banana to whole wheat bread, into a badly nicked blender of a baby blue hue. The hymn's words and notes were pretty much unintelligible, drowned out by the harsh grating reverberations within his stainless steel windpipe, but the grotesque warbling was uplifting music to his pinholes for ears nonetheless, and he cheerily rocked from side to side on his four segmented legs of steel.

**_"Brand new day, time to slay, with Noxus and its friends! The blood and slaughter never ends!"_**

And with that inspirational lyric, Urgot, formerly the Headsman's Pride but now Chief Torturer due to that ******** Draven hogging all of the executioners' glories for himself, slapped a plastic cap onto the blender and hunched over to carefully press the tip of his pincer against a button on the blender's base. The blender screamed for a few seconds until Urgot withdrew the pincer. Off came the cap. In dropped a large plastic straw, one end sinking into the yellowish brown muck, the other end inserted neatly into a circular hole at the bottom of his face's stainless steel grill. Ten seconds of noisy sucking sounds as he quickly drained the blender of its contents. A loud satisfied **_"Ahhhhh!"_** escaped from the grill as he set the blender back down onto the top of his knee-high refrigerator, which doubled as his kitchen counter. Breakfast was served and done with.

The onion-shaped soldier patted his bare leathery belly, momentarily waiting for a burp that would never come due to his electronic digestive system's ability to silently expunge most of his gaseous waste. Then he scuttled over to his chair-less office desk and turned on his computer so that he could check his email, twiddling his pincers together as he wondered what he might have missed during his three hours of sleep.

The musing Urgot twiddled his pincers for quite the while during his wait. For while his desktop computer was a high-end machine with state-of-the-art components, its hard drive was absolutely swamped with malware, spyware, trojans, rootkits, browser hijacks, you name it. Although Urgot was a savvy veteran of the battlefield and blessed with a genius tactical mind for warfare, the seventy year old machine man was also a complete and total noob when it came to this whole newfangled internet thing. He could sniff out enemy snipers hidden inside dense foliage from ten miles away, yet he could not stop himself from opening every damn email that came his way, regardless of subject line and attachment size. He could sense impending predator ambushes from within the silent dank darkness of an Icathian cavern, yet he simply could not stop himself from clicking on dodgy web links that promised videos of hot amateur Ionian teenage girls engaged in promiscuous activity with each other. Urgot had no idea what AdBlock and NoScript were, because he had no idea that one could actually install extensions and addons for a web browser. And yes, his web browser of choice was Internet Explorer.

As his computer's hard drive creaked and groaned, platters spinning this way and that as a hundred different malicious programs pulled from a hundred different directions, Urgot started to clang his pincers together in impatience.

**_"Goddamit, why does this infernal computer of mine take so damn long to boot! I swear, it takes longer with each passing day! Perhaps this could be Demacian sorcery at work?! A diabolical scheme to undermine workplace efficiency within the Noxian military?!"_**

He would have gnashed his teeth together by now if he had teeth. As it were, he contented himself with squatting down on all fours so that he could glare balefully at his blasted monitor with his right eye, whitened with near blindness, and his left ocular hextech implant, an all-seeing monocle of chromed steel with a round green crystal inset for a lens. Watching the computer visibly tally the amount of RAM it had, Urgot reminded himself to open yet another support case with the Noxian military's woefully underfunded IT department (the Noxus government pretty much blew all their money on weaponry and war machines, and ignored all else)...

Five tedious minutes later, the login screen to Windows XP finally appeared, and Urgot angrily stopped bashing his pincers together so that he could punch in his user name and password on his half-destroyed keyboard.

**_"urgot2002... urgot2002..."_**

His computer groaned some more as it sluggishly brought up a desktop so totally littered with and obscured by icons and shortcuts, the wallpaper was not even visible, let alone recognizable. And Urgot grew even more angry as a familiar pop-up window appeared on his screen. This damn forsaken computer always asking him that same damn question all the damn time!

**_"No, I don't want to waste my time upgrading to service pack one or what have you! I just want to check my email, blast it all to hell!"_**

As one can see, Urgot was the living embodiment of a desktop support specialist's worst nightmare. Hence, the number of pending support cases currently piled up under Urgot's name which no one wanted to deal with.

Regardless, one way or another, the stalwart soldier of Noxus finally managed to open his Outlook email inbox and he began to pore through the three hundred and twelve emails he had received in the past three hours... Urgot sneered out loud at those emails which guaranteed increased virility and organ size via some miraculous medicine, for his frank and beans had been blown off long ago by an errant friendly mortar shell.

He crowed, **_"Hah! Stupid scammers! You can't fool me!"_**, even as he absentmindedly opened an email sent to him by a nameless Shuriman prince begging for aid and donations to save the starving children of his nation... Urgot then realized what he had just opened, and the lens of his ocular implant dilated in horror as the email described, in all upper case letters, the plight of these poor children...

With a hoarse cry of dismay: **_"Oh my god, the poor children! Will no one help these distraught victims of circumstance!"_**

Urgot then attempted to open his browser so that he could send some money to the children via Paypal, but unfortunately, IE kept crashing. After fifty tries or so (if nothing else, Urgot was a very determined man), he resigned himself to the cold unforgiving truth that someone else would have to save those poor children, and he moved on to the next email, which happened to be the only legitimate one of the bunch.

_"Dear Urgot,_

In the unlikely event that you are able to open this email, I wish to inform you that General DuCouteau requests your audience today at two o'clock PM at his summertime manor. To ensure you receive this invitation, Beatrice will arrive shortly at your office to relay this exact same summons via a paper note bound to her left leg.

Sincerely,  
Swain, Grand General Esquire

P.S. For gods sakes, man, get yourself a cell phone so people can get a hold of you through means other than email and carrier raven! And no, your goddamn rotary phone doesn't count!"

Swain's plea falling upon deaf earholes (Urgot was of the opinion that the radiation from cell phones caused brain cancer), the fleshy onion sat back on his hind legs for a moment to chew on this intriguing turn of events. The esteemed General DuCouteau himself, requesting Urgot's audience at the DuCouteau mansion?! Certainly a rarefied honor which the former headsman could never turn down! And yet... this invitation was most definitely unexpected, since these two heroes of Noxus were neither friends nor acquaintances. They had never even had the chance to meet face to face, let alone work side by side, the main reason being that DuCouteau's extensive body of work involved mostly covert operations while Urgot had gained his fame at the front lines of bloodbaths and meat grinders...

And yet, here was today, DuCouteau wishing to exchange pleasantries at Noxus's traditional tea time...

A rumble of delight issued forth from Urgot's facial grill as the pincers came together to rub in glee at the prospect of gaining stature within Noxus's high society. For too long had that fresh-faced brat Draven stolen the limelight from him! With the favor of a man like DuCouteau on his side, surely Urgot would gain glory and accolades far beyond anything which that axe-wielding whelp could ever dream of!

Stitch-strewn head fairly swimming with the possibilities, Urgot hummed once again under his breath as he waddled over to the sink and wall mirror which served as his bathroom, and he began to attend to his toiletries, swapping out his left pincer appendage for a hair dryer appendage so that he could better arrange the two straggling strands of hair which remained on his otherwise barren scalp...

And yet, as formidable as his imagination was and as far as his mind strayed, Urgot never did once contemplate the possibility that he might tumble head over (four) heels in forbidden, impossible, and utterly unreciprocated love with the most tempestuous of Noxus's fair maidens.

END OF CHAPTER

Crunch time at work for a couple weeks... too tired to write anything super serial... so tonight, I doodled this instead... I like Urgot because he reminds me of a volleyball made of cadavers.


	3. Miley Ray Rammus

_Still One Year Ago_

At two PM sharp, with his two strands of hair meticulously parted down the middle, a nervous Urgot stood before the DuCouteau summer residence, which could be described as a flowery fortress of sorts: a somber mansion surrounded by tall thick stone walls, fronted with a formidable black iron gate, and absolutely smothered with countless garlands of fresh spring blossoms. Urgot had heard that, due to the general's constant absence, the DuCouteau household was primarily run by the general's two young daughters, thus he was not much shocked by the heavy-handedness of the estate's feminine touch.

Nonetheless, as he raised his right pincer to press the doorbell, he had to raise a hairless eyebrow at the pink panel which surrounded said doorbell. The round panel was clearly meant to inspire the image of some sort of abominably cute creature that was composed almost entirely of circles, for, within the round pink panel, there was a round black doorbell meant to effect a wide open mouth, a fat lock of pink hair that was probably supposed to be bangs yet reminded Urgot of a freshly squeezed dab of toothpaste, and two huge liquid blue eyes above the mouth which served no practical purpose other than to stare outwardly with blank friendliness at Urgot and give him a mild case of the heebie jeebies.

The former pride of the headsmen had no clue what manner of creature this was, but the answer came easily enough when he pushed the doorbell three times and heard three squeaky singsong intonations of the DuCouteaus' choice of door chime:

"Jigglypuff! Jigglypuff! Jigglypuff!"

The wily soldier was more than intelligent enough to put two and two together. "Ah ha," Urgot thought to himself. It would seem that "Jigglypuff" was the name of this... this creature. As he waited for someone to answer the intercom, he wondered if perhaps this Jigglypuff was a mystical beast from an obscure legend or myth. Judging from its benevolent appearance and jovial voice, it certainly had to be a friendly spirit of sorts; perhaps the Jigglypuff was some patron saint of good luck and fortune?

A butler arrived at the gate to greet Urgot in person and grant him entry, the butler's appearance reminiscent of the estate which he helped maintain: somber clothes and face brightened by a huge wreathe of spring flowers draped around his neck. The man's startlingly lifeless face, less animated than even Urgot's overwhelmingly metal visage, gave Urgot the distinct impression that the silly wreathe of flowers had been forced upon the butler against his will. His deadened voice only added to the impression during the minimal pleasantries and introductions. The manservant said nothing else which might give Urgot a clue about the purpose of this summons, and Urgot did not bother to inquire. General DuCouteau's reputation for secrecy and privacy was spread far and wide, and Urgot doubted this peon had any real notion as to what was going on.

Thus, after a wordless trek down a winding obsidian path lined with loud pink tulips, the thin butler and portly Urgot swiftly marched through the mansion's massive oaken doors. The interior was opulence itself as expected, and Urgot found himself led past stunning silken tapestries, up a dazzling gilded stairwell, and into a discrete parlor bathed in shadows, the room's interior lit only by what sunlight managed to seep through drawn curtains.

The butler hailed the lone occupant of the room. "Lord Talon, our guest has arrived."

Sitting on a chair of silver bones and facing the doorway was Talon, devoted servant of General DuCouteau and, by extension, his daughters. Urgot had heard many good albeit vague things about this young and promising blade-wielding assassin, but did not know much else otherwise. Thus, he greeted his fellow champion in the following manner:

"Greetings, Lord Talon, and thank you for your hospitality... forgive the prying nature of an old man, but might I ask why you currently hold what seems to be a pack of ice between your thighs?"

The curiously pale face of Talon colored deeply at the innocent question, and he replied with a voice two octaves higher than what one would expect from a steely-faced man of obvious grit: "Greetings, Lord Urgot, and welcome to the estate of DuCouteau. Pardon the unseemly nature with which I hold my hand to my crotch, but I suffered a grisly wound to my loins last night, and the doctor was firm in his order that I maintain direct pressure with this ice pack until the end of this day."

For a moment, Urgot was taken aback by this unexpected bit of news. Then he grimly nodded in understanding, as he now recalled what he knew of the general's elder daughter, Katarina, who was another rapidly rising star within the Noxian military. For while her official title of nobility was "duchess" and her champion title was "The Sinister Blade", among the men of Noxus, she was mostly known by the nickname "Neuterina" due to her penchant for severing the balls of a man who displeased her.

"My condolences, Lord Talon. Decades ago, I also lost my franks and beans in the line of duty."

"Thank you, Lord Urgot, although I must correct you in that only my beans are lost, having been devoured by Mistress Katarina's hounds last night when she hurled them into the kennel in a frightful fit of rage. My frank still remains intentionally intact due to the eerie precision with which Mistress Katarina handles her blades and, now that she has renounced me as both her lover and bodyguard, I, like my frank, am woefully alone and forlorn."

The lens of Urgot's ocular implant zoomed out in shock at the young man's admission of his forbidden and foolish behavior: "You involved yourself with the woman you were tasked to protect?!"

The older man's admonishing tone was not lost among the harsh vibrations of his mechanical vocal chords, and Talon stiffened in both contrition and defiance. "Yes, Lord Urgot, I did! And although I am now but half the man I used to be, I regret nothing!"

Urgot was utterly confused. If he was not mistaken, this young man's words still held out the hope that he might regain the love of his scornful former lover! The very woman who did away with his family jewels?! What in the world, was this man delirious with blood loss?!

He decided not to pursue this topic any further, for he had more pressing questions to ask. "I take it that since she has renounced you as her bodyguard, I have been summoned so that the position of bodyguard might be offered to me?"

In a sign of his fiery youth, the young man could not repress a scowl of jealousy before he yanked his hoodie over the majority of his face. "Yes, Lord Urgot. General DuCouteau seeks to find a man fit for the position, and he believes you are the most qualified candidate."

Urgot could already see where this was leading. "I am the leading candidate because I don't have any balls for her to cut off."

A grim nod. "Perhaps it would be better if the general addressed your questions himself. Please sit down, Lord Urgot." Talon gestured to a giant beanbag next to his chair before he turned to face the other side of the darkened room. "The general should be here shortly.

Urgot sat as requested, steel heart thumping madly in excitement. The face of General DuCouteau was an elusive one indeed, to the point where literally only a handful of people knew what the mysterious man looked like: his two daughters, Talon, Swain, and possibly the similarly mysterious LeBlanc of the Black Rose. As a matter of fact, Urgot was willing to bet good money that even Riot Games had little idea as to what they wanted General DuCouteau to look like. The general was very much Runeterra's version of Kaiser Soze: a faceless devil feared by all, whether it be man, yordle, Void thingy, plant lady, spider woman, undead centaur guy, anthromorphic reptilian librarian-turned-butcher, etc etc.

Before Urgot had a chance to check the digital time display of the HUD spliced directly into his optical nerves, a television monitor came alive from within the darkness, revealing the silhouette of a man's head. And a warped modified voice now sounded through Bose speakers on the walls, much to Urgot's disappointment; it seemed that General DuCouteau (unsurprisingly) wished to preserve his incognito ways.

The voice changer's inflections were capable of carrying emotion, but hardly anything identifiable: "Greetings, Lord Urgot, and thank you for your time. Forgive me for my prudence, but a man of my occupation can never be too cautious."

Urgot bowed as best as he could, given his rotund shape. "Greetings, General DuCouteau, and fear not, I completely understand the precautions you take."

"Excellent, I anticipated as much from a decorated veteran as yourself." The general's silhouette bowed forward as the voice took on a businesslike tone. "Now, without further ado, I have a series of questions to ask of you, Lord Urgot. First off, do you know what an otaku is?"

What the ****?! Urgot would have scrunched his nose at this unexpected question if he still had a nose. "I... uh... I confess, General DuCouteau, I have no idea what an otaku is -" An inspiration suddenly hit him upside the head. "Wait! Is it a vegetable related to okra?"

Chuckles, not unkind, from both the Bose speakers and Talon. "No, Lord Urgot, an otaku is not a vegetable, but fear not, for I did not expect you to know the answer. In lieu of my first question, let me then ask my second question: do you know what anime is?"

This Urgot knew, thanks to the plethora of spam emails he received (and inadvertently opened) which advertised websites streaming hentai movies for free. "Yes, I know that hent- errrrrr, I mean, anime is the term used to describe Ionian cartoons."

"Excellent! So you are at least acquainted with anime! Perhaps the culture shock shall not be too drastic, then!"

On the monitor, two shadowy hands came together in delight, and a moment later, their clap echoed from the Bose speakers. Urgot had no idea what anime had to do with all this, but the general did not bother to explain as he pressed onward. "Now, another question: do you play the game League of Legends?"

"No, I do not. My computer is unable to run the game due to performance issues." Technically not a lie. His PC, although powerful in terms of hardware specs, was bogged down by so much malware, its computing power had been reduced to that of a boy manipulating an abacus.

"Hmm, have you seen people play the game, at least?"

"I have on many occasions. Namely, whenever I visit Grand General Swain's office, I often find him playing the game on his desktop."

"Yes, yes, that is well. Now, have you ever seen the in-game model of my daughter Katarina?"

Urgot sensed Talon stiffening beside him, as if this question meant a great deal to him. And Urgot carefully replied, "Yes, I do recall the in-game model of your daughter."

"Tell me, do you think her in-game model is ugly?"

"Ugly?" The staunch soldier of Noxus was utterly confused by this line of questioning, but he could sense that the balance of this peculiar interview hung on this particular answer; thus, he erred on the side of flattery. "I... well, I have never given the matter much thought since I no longer have my frank and beans, but... Swain did once tell me that he fapped to Katarina's model in-game, which would lead me to conclude that, no, it is not ugly."

The pleasure was evident in the general's voice as he clapped his hands again in delight. "I wholeheartedly agree, Lord Urgot! It is simply impossible for one to perceive my daughter, whether in the flesh or pixelated effigy, as an ugly caricature of a woman possessing feet reminiscent of pizza wedges and hair with the body and bounce of a frozen octopus!"

The general's very specific wording meant nothing to Urgot, which meant they had been aimed at Talon instead. And Talon, on his part, slouched in his chair and sullenly grumbled, "Twas a mere joke in good fun, nothing more."

"As you have learned, my faithful Talon, one does not simply jest with Katarina about her in-game model, and you have paid for your error in flesh and blood."

A penitent Talon bowed his head and murmured, "Yes, Master DuCouteau," which led Urgot to privately think to himself:

"Man, what a total b1tch! I would rather die than bow my head in subservience to a man and daughter who so easily rationalize the unwarranted removal of my balls with such callousness and self-righteousness! This Talon character is either a coward as spineless as that accursed Demacian light mage who uses her range to perpetually stay afar from the front lines, or a fallen pathetic fool who hopelessly clings to the ankles of a one-sided love! My god, young men these days, have they no testicular fortitude - "

Urgot's thoughts came to a standstill and, a moment later, his regulated breath followed suit. For the voice of a singing young woman drifted across his earholes, her melancholy melody steadily gaining in strength and resolve as she neared the open parlor door. This was not to say she was a human songbird, however, since her tremulous voice was roughly comparable to that of a cat who had just been hit by a truck. And yet, although she could not carry a tune worth a damn, the emotion was palpable, the words were haunting, and Urgot found himself shivering in his alloy-reinforced bones as he listened to the girl who shared her woes and injured heart with the world that revolved around her.

_"I came in like a power balll,  
then curled in your defensive balll.  
All I wanted was your appro-hoo-valll.  
But all you did was tau-au-aunt meee!  
Yeah, you, you tau-au-aunt meee!"_

Urgot shot one quick look at Talon before looking to the door, the young man's determinedly impassive face a sure indicator as to which of the two daughters now approached. And although Urgot had never before seen Katarina in the flesh, he had seen various artwork of her from that League of Legends game, the most vivid recollection being that of him accidentally walking in on Swain furiously licking a monitor with a full screen version of Kitty Kat Katarina's Chinese splash art. So, as he waited for Katarina to walk by the door, or perhaps through the door, Urgot thought he had a reasonable handle on what to expect in terms of attractiveness...

Or so he thought.

END OF CHAPTER

Notes: Someone once told me that an aspiring author should write 2,000 words a day to keep practice. I don't think he ever specified whether those 2,000 words had to make sense, though. So these were my 2,000 words last night! Urgot x Kat 4ever!


End file.
